by Anne Brear
In the scullery, the coldest part of the house, she placed cheese, bacon, a parcel of sliced tongue and a pat of butter on the marble shelf in the corner.
Returning into the kitchen, she found the bread and the sponge cake she’d bought. She’d been surprised by the amount of pleasure she received when buying food. At home the only time she dealt with food was sitting down to a meal in the dining room. Yet, today she learned the simple enjoyment of choosing what she needed, and with Lily’s help, selecting the freshest produce.
Placing the bread on a wooden board, she smiled tiredly at Lily. “I’ll make a sandwich for Sophia. She’ll be hungry.”
“Let me do that while you arrange everything else. I can make sandwiches sitting down.” Lily laughed, cutting the bread into slices. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to bake a cake. You can’t go on buying that kind of stuff. It’s cheaper to make your own.”
When a knock came at the door, Aurora went along to find the first of the deliveries had arrived. Bedroom furniture, including a new bed and mattress for Aurora to sleep on in the second bedroom, plus a small set of drawers. Also, a few things for the sitting room, a side table and a wooden chair with a padded seat upholstered in brown velvet and a round oak occasional table and a green velvet footstool. An extra indulgence had been a wing-backed chair in faded chintz, for the old sofa wasn’t big enough for more than two people. She also purchased a large rug, decidedly worn in places, but still showing its swirl pattern in blue and brown. While she directed the men where to place everything, she was aware of the women standing on doorsteps watching with interest.
“Been shopping, have you lass?” Dilys stated the obvious as she crossed the cobbles. “Let me give you a hand.”
“Oh, really, Mrs…er…” Aurora blushed, forgetting the woman’s last name.
“Nay, lass, many hands an’ all that.” Dilys barged inside. The other women and children in the street seemed to take this as a signal and all did the same. Aurora stood by the door lost for words as the house filled with the noise of furniture being moved and women’s voices.
As she was about to close the door another horse and wagon drove down the lane, this from the ironmongers. In came boxes and crates of lamps, pots and pans, a foot warmer, two flat irons, a broom and several brushes, china crockery, extra cutlery, jugs and numerous other things Aurora didn’t remember buying. However, one thing she was happy to see was paint. She couldn’t wait to whitewash the entire house.
For a moment she panicked as strangers moved her things, touched and commented on what she’d bought. Her frustration grew into anger at their rudeness.
“They mean no harm, Aurora.” She turned to see Sophia coming slowly down the stairs, a handkerchief to her nose. “This is their way. I know you aren’t used to it. I wasn’t either at first. But don’t allow it to bother you, because the day may come when you need them.”
“You might be right, but I feel…” She couldn’t relay in words how she felt, except the word invaded hovered on her lips.
“It’ll be all right. They’ll leave soon, once their curiosity is sated.”
“I hope so.”
“I won’t ask how much you’ve spent today. I dread the answer.”
Aurora felt her cheeks redden. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to controlling how much money I spend. Father was always generous ...”
“I can imagine. Never mind. What is done is done.”
She swallowed back another apology. “Go back to bed. I’ll bring you up some tea and a sandwich.”
“Will you cope?” Sophia’s eyes mirrored her concern as she glanced towards the kitchen full of women and children.
“Yes, I’ll have to, won’t I?” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice.
“You’ll have to make them all some tea.” Sophia sighed resignedly, climbing back up the stairs. “Otherwise they’ll talk about you being tight and unfriendly.”
“Oh, very well.” Aurora shoved her way through the milling women and small children underfoot and went into the kitchen where Lily sat pouring out cups of tea and handing around slices of cake. Lily was fast becoming a very good friend and she squeezed her shoulder lightly in thanks.
Much later, with her tea quantities diminished and the cake completely gone, Aurora surveyed the downstairs rooms. She’d sent Lily home to lie down for a while before her father, Noah, came home, and with Sophia asleep upstairs, a comforting silence descended. The house seemed more welcoming now, not just because it had extra furniture, but because people had been here, there’d been laughter, and chatter and jokes. Neighbors, again some of whose names escaped Aurora, had washed up in the scullery and wiped down the table as Dilys swept the little yard out the back while Jean black-leaded the range. Hetty Barclay and Jane Fulton proudly hung the curtains in the front room, but on hearing that Aurora forgot to buy lace net, they hurried to their homes and found some spare and put that up too.
The warmth of the fire did plenty to diminish the gloom and chill of the growing evening. Aurora sat on the new chair and with a pen and paper drew up another list of things needed. Blankets headed the list, then a clock, a picture for the wall, a rug for the kitchen. Lost in her thoughts, she jerked when a loud tapping came at the kitchen window. Intrigued, she left the sitting room.
A stranger came in through the scullery. A small woman, no more than five foot and wearing all black tottered into the kitchen as if she’d been doing it for years. Aurora didn’t know her, and her first thought was to get a new lock fitted to the scullery door. “May I help you?”
“I’m Mary Murphy. I live next door.”
“How do you do.” Aurora smiled at Anthony’s mother.
“I’m not so bad now I’m back up on me feet. Sure an’ haven’t I missed all the excitement of having new people in the row.”
“Oh yes, your son, Anthony, told me you’ve not been well.”
“Aye. There’s times when it’s difficult to walk. Me legs have always been the bane of me life, but sure an’ I’m not complaining.” Her Irish lyrical voice affected Aurora in a way she never thought possible. This small, dainty woman before her looked as if a slight breeze would blow her down, but her voice was strong and so was the look in her clear green eyes. Aurora knew she would like Mary Murphy.
“Will you come into the sitting room and have some tea?”
“I wish I could, lass, but I’m to be getting back to me own kitchen and cook for me son. He’s the only one left at home now and sure as I can’t get used it. Eighteen I had and only one left.”
“Eighteen children?”
“Like shelling peas, lass, shelling peas.” Mrs Murphy laughed and went back into the scullery. “But you’re welcome next door whenever you like, an’ if you’re wanting anything, just give my Anthony a knock. There’s not much that he can’t find. God bless him.”
“Thank you, I will.” Aurora watched her leave by the back gate and then carefully added coals to the fire to heat up some hot chocolate for Sophie. She ached everywhere and didn’t fight the huge yawn that escaped her. She gazed around the kitchen at the parcels and wrapping and boxes left from the shopping. What a day, the kind of which she never thought imaginable only a few months ago. But look at her now, stirring warm milk in a dark kitchen in the bowels of York. Her throat tightened with threatening tears and she gulped hard. How long would it take for her to think of this place as home and to accept that her family and Reid were lost to her forever?
Chapter Twelve
“I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
Aurora raised her eyebrows at Sophie as they sat in the kitchen eating porridge for breakfast. “Why not? With us both working we can save more money for the cottage in the country.”
“I know, but you’ve never worked before.”
“Neither had you, but you managed it.”
“You are pregnant.”
“So were you.”
Sophia tutted irritably. “We can think about you going out to
work after the baby is born.”
“But that is months away.” She pushed away her empty bowl. “I cannot sit around here doing nothing. I’ll go mad.”
“And I’ll go mad with worry if you’re out there.” Sophia took both bowls and placed them in a bucket then poured hot water from the kettle over them. “We’ll be fine with my wage.”
“We’ll be better with two wages.” Aurora tidied the table. “I will not be dissuaded on this.”
“Aurrie, please.” Sophia laid a hand on her arm. Aurora looked at it in surprise as they had hardly touched each other after the first night in Edinburgh Yard when Fred attacked her. Sophia released her. “It’s not as easy as you might think. You’re different and you’ll be mixing with others who will resent you.”
“I will not sit in the house all day while you go out to work. It’s not right,” Aurora said, putting on her coat. “Just let me try, please.” She pinned on her hat and headed out the door. “I’ll see you later.”
In the lane, the women were washing windows, sweeping steps, or simply prattling to each other in the morning sunshine. Their children, those too young to go to school, played at their feet.
“Morning, Aurrie,” Dilys called, pausing in giving her front window a good clean. “You’re off shopping again?”
“No. I’m off to find work.” This statement had all the women scurrying to her, intent on giving her their opinion.
“Nay lass, you’ll never stand it.” Hetty Barclay looked at the others to back up her comment. “You’re not made for it. A slip of a thing like you.”
“I can and I will, Hetty.” Aurora continued walking, more determined than ever.
“Call in and see Jim Thompson at his warehouse in Parliament Road, lass,” Dilys said. “He might have something going.”
“Or try the market,” Jean added. “I work there a couple of days a week on the fish stall.”
The other women called out various suggestions and wished her well.
“Thanks, I will do my best.” She waved and rounded the corner only to nearly bump into Mrs Murphy. “Oh, I’m sorry!”
“No harm done, lass.” Mary Murphy smiled. “Off to the shops then? Sure an isn’t it the blight of our lives?”
“I’m looking for work.”
At once Mrs Murphy became serious. “Are you really?” She glanced up and down the street as though weary of someone overhearing them. She stepped closer. “Do you mind hard work?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never worked before.”
“Nay, then forget it.” She stepped away.
“What were you going to say?”
“It don’t matter. I doubt you’re strong enough anyway.”
“I won’t know until I try.”
“Listen, I know of a place. Ellerton’s Eatery in Jubbergate. You can get kitchen work there. It’s hard work, mind, standing on your feet all day. The money is good and higher than most places because the owners are the worst two bags of misery that you’re ever likely to see and there’s summat not right there.” She glanced up and down the street again. “I hear Ellerton likes to walk on the other side of the law, but you didn’t hear that from me.” The old woman tapped the side of her nose.
“Thank you for letting me know.” Aurora smiled.
“Don’t thank me yet, lass. It’s not the best place for you to go to, but keep it in mind if nothing else comes about.” Mrs Murphy, head down, hurried away.
Aurora spent the next two days walking the streets of York enquiring for work at everywhere she could think of. Most of the shopkeepers asked for her experience, and when they found out she had none, turned her away with a sympathetic refusal. The market holders shook their heads, and one even laughed openly at her, saying she couldn’t make enough money to keep her family together, never mind pay someone. One factory foreman had immediately guessed she was a runaway and forcibly removed her from the entrance saying he wanted no trouble from her father.
Standing on Lendal Bridge, watching the murky water flow gently beneath it, Aurora was beginning to get depressed about her lack of success. All around her were industries, but the minute she opened her mouth and they heard the way she spoke, the owners sent her away with a flea in her ear about wasting their time. To a man they all told her to go home and stop playing silly beggars. One even mumbled that if she was his daughter she’d get a flogging for trying to take a job from someone who needed it more than her. Perhaps she should have borrowed clothes from Lily and not worn her best outfit of black silk, but at the time she had wanted to look her best. Foolishly, all she had done was drawn attention to herself.
The low horn of a boat sounded and she started. With a sigh, she turned away from the river and walked to the end of the bridge. Standing here wouldn’t get her a job. Then she thought of the eatery Mrs Murphy told her about and decided to head there.
The outside of the teashop was painted a deep green with red window sills, the sign proclaiming it to be Ellerton’s Eatery hung neat and tidy above the door. Aurora walked in and spoke to the waitress nearest to her.
“If you’re looking for a job, go around the back.” A young woman, dressed in black with a small white apron told Aurora the minute she said she didn’t want tea but work.
Going through a narrow alley between the buildings and picking her way through the refuse coating the yard behind, Aurora made it to the back area of the eatery. A tawny cat watched her progress to the door from its advantage on top of a large pile of crates and barrels. She knocked on the door, listening to the fearful racket going on inside. Someone was screaming and yelling abuse and this was only stopped by the sound of a loud crash. Aurora stepped aside quickly as the door was flung open and a woman burst out, slapping on her flat hat. She turned back to the other larger woman standing in the doorway. “You can stick your job where the sun don’t shine, Ellerton, you stupid bitch! And you can tell that to your slimy husband an’ all! The filthy swine.”
Aurora shrank back as the large woman, Ellerton, she supposed, turned purple with rage. “Why, I’ll have you, you dirty slut!” She shook her fist in the air and then spotting Aurora, peered at her. “The entrance is around the front, Miss.” Her voice changed instantly into a false accent of superiority.
Aurora smoothed down her coat, which Sophia had pressed last night. Today she looked the best she had done since leaving home. “Good day. Mrs Ellerton, is it?”
“Yes?” The woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“I-I was looking for work.”
Ellerton looked at her for a long moment. “You’re not from around here are you?”
“No.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“On the run from the law?”
“No.”
“And you want work?”
“Yes.”
“I can tell from the look of you you’ve never worked a day in your life. Am I right?”
“Yes, that’s true.” Aurora felt her spirit leave her as easily as Ellerton’s false accent left her.
“Right, well, come in then.” Ellerton demanded. “What’s your name?”
“Aurrie Barton.” The name slipped out without thought, but she decided to go with it. Aurora Pettigrew was no longer real, simply a person who used to exist in another world.
“I want no troublemakers, understand? You do you work and shut you gob. It’s hard graft, but I pay well for it. No one can accuse me of not paying what’s right and decent.”
“Yes, of course.” Aurora followed her into a large scullery, and beyond a wide doorway she saw a busy kitchen full of people working. A tall man in a chef’s hat swore in French at a serving girl.
“Hang your coat on that hook there.” Ellerton lifted her chin in the direction of the row or hooks on the wall. She smoothed down her red and black striped silk dress with its dainty black lace at the collar. The outfit was at total odds to her language and stern attitude. “This ‘ere is Nancy, and that
’s Peggy.” She pointed to the two women bent over large stone sinks, their arms coated in gray soap suds. “Yer start at seven every morning except Sundays, when we’re closed. Yer finished at seven at night or when the work is done. Is that clear?”
Aurora nodded, slightly amazed. Ellerton was dressed like a lady but talked like a skivvy.
“Yer pay is two shillings a day. We pay well, as I said, but you have to earn it, understand? Slack off just once an’ yer out.” She stepped to the kitchen door. “Peggy, show ‘er what’s done.”
“I’m to start right away?” Aurora stared at her wide-eyed.
“Aye. What you waiting for?” Ellerton went into the kitchen and yelled at someone for not cutting the sandwiches neat enough. “Do you want people to stop coming, you silly cow?”
All of Aurora’s instincts told her to run from here, but before she could act, Peggy gave her a wide smile. “Cheer up. We’ll not see her in here again today. She’s dressed to mingle with the customers out front.” Peggy grabbed a clean apron from a hook on the wall and passed it to Aurora. “Mrs Ellerton usually stays out the front. She adopts a voice better than any toff’s and sucks up to all her customers. This is the best teahouse in York, but if any of them lot came out the back here they’d soon see a different Mrs Ellerton.”
After tying on the apron, Aurora made no move, she just watched Nancy and Peggy wash pots, pans and china in a whirl of frenzied activity.
“Come on then. Get cracking. It’ll pile up with just two of us now Viv’s gone.” Peggy went to the back of the scullery to a large fireplace. Upon iron racks were heavy cauldrons of boiling water. Long wooden benches full of drying china and glassware stood on either side of the fireplace. “Give us a hand.”
Aurora hurried to help her pour the water into the stone sink just as two young girls came in from the kitchen carrying a tray each filled with dirty cutlery.